


Love and War

by Ultra



Series: Soldiers of Misfortune [3]
Category: Leverage, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Ambiguous Relationships, Compare and Contrast, Drinking & Talking, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Gen, Implied Relationships, M/M, Past Relationship(s), Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Post-HYDRA Reveal, Post-Series, Soldiers, Understanding, Walk Into A Bar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-27
Updated: 2017-04-27
Packaged: 2018-10-13 08:21:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10509948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ultra/pseuds/Ultra
Summary: In the aftermath of discovering HYDRA within SHIELD and that the Winter Soldier is Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers could use a friend to turn to. Eliot Spencer has a feeling he might be one of the few people in the world that can help a fellow soldier to come through this situation.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [theron09](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theron09/gifts).



“It’s been a while.”

Eliot let a wry smile come to his lips as he hopped up onto the barstool and heard those words.

“Yes, sir, it has,” he said, gesturing to the barman for a whisky for himself and another for his friend.

It could have been made to look a chance encounter. That was how it was supposed to be, though Eliot wasn’t sure he believed Rogers was dumb enough not to realise the truth.

When he heard about it all in the news reports, he put two and two together and came out with a nice round four. They had conversations enough in the past about childhood friends and old adventures. Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers were as close as two men could be back in the day. No matter what the so-called Winter Soldier had done, he would be forgiven, regardless the cost. There was no second choice.

“So, you thought I might need help? Someone to talk to?”

“Seemed like a good bet.” Eliot nodded, pushing a shot glass over to his buddy. “Cheers.”

Steve nodded in return, picked up the glass of amber liquid and stared into it a moment before downing it in one, a moment or two behind Eliot. It would be foolish to expect it to help at all, but Steve suspected nothing really would. A shot of scotch wouldn’t kill him. In fact, with his hyped-up metabolism, it wouldn’t even make him the slightest bit drunk.

“Sometimes I wish this affected me,” he muttered, returning the glass to the bar, “but it never does.”

“Be easier if everything passed through as easy. No consequences, no feelings,” said Eliot with a knowing look. “Besides, even if this stuff worked on you,” he continued, tipping his now empty glass towards Steve, “all the memories come flooding back after it wears off, and they hurt twice as bad. Trust me on that.”

The pain in his expressive blue eyes meant he spoke the truth. Steve never had a reason to doubt his friend, and friends is definitely what they had become the last couple of years. 

They had more in common than most would ever guess. They certainly played for different sides of the line in years gone by, but it was strange how lines started to blur after a while. Good guys, bad guys. Sometimes it was hard to tell one from another. Perhaps they were all just soldiers, following orders, not even sure themselves what side they were on, hoping rather than believing it was the right one.

“All my life I’ve fought for what I believed in,” said Steve, seemingly staring at nothing, seeing only the past in its various guises within the void. “Friends, family. My country, my team. The people of the world that needed help.”

“The stars and stripes, the spacious skies, the purple mountain majesty,” said Eliot, toasting the idea with his now empty glass.

Steve smirked. “It’s a nice idea.”

“No, it’s a nice ideal,” Eliot corrected. “In a perfect world, the good guys wear white hats and the bad guys wear black. Justice always prevails and everything is as it should be when the sun goes down. It’s a nice story to tell the kids when you tuck ‘em in at night, but guys like us, we know it ain’t for real.”

“It should be,” said Steve sadly, not even bothering to argue when Eliot ordered another round, this time beers. “The world was never perfect. When I crashed that plane into the ice, the world was at war. I wake up, and it feels like it’s not over, but it’s worse somehow. Now we’re not even sure who the enemy is, how many there are, what to expect.”

“And when the worst of ‘em is wearing your best friend’s face, that can’t help.”

Steve looked sharply at Eliot then, clearly surprised to hear those words. His friend smiled.

“C’mon, you thought I was just here because HYDRA reared their ugly head?” Eliot shook his head. “I know people, who know people. Mostly bad people. I know about Bucky.”

“Of course you do.” Steve sighed.

“And now you’re gonna tell me I can’t get how you’re feeling right now, and hey, maybe you’re right, but I got some tiny idea, trust me,” Eliot explained, taking a long drink of his beer. “It was maybe six months before you woke up to the modern world that it happened to me. I was in a little place called San Lorenzo with my team, and... and we put away a man that I used to... He was my Bucky in a lot of ways.”

A look passed between them then that maybe wouldn’t have seemed like much to any passer-by that saw it, but Steve and Eliot had an understanding, a connection that was undeniable. They saw the truth in each other’s eyes, the kinds of truth that could never be explained in words. Steve knew what Eliot meant, and Eliot knew that Steve understood very well what he was trying to say.

“I’m not sayin’ we grew up together or anythin’, but I woulda done anything for him. For a while, that’s exactly what I did. Anything. Everything. Things I never should’ve... Anyway, he got outta hand. Came right down to it and I had to face him as an enemy, had to keep my team, my family safe from him, and lock him away for the rest of his natural life.”

Steve swallowed hard, imagining how bad things could yet be for him and for Bucky. Fighting with the Winter Soldier had been tough enough, doubly so when he knew that behind the mask and beyond the programming was Bucky. To love someone you’re supposed to hate, it tore you in two. Maybe Eliot did understand. Maybe he knew better than even Steve did yet when it came to dealing with this kind of situation.

“You justified what you had to do. You were protecting your team. You did your job.”

Steve wasn't sure if he was trying to make Eliot feel better now or if he was just stating the facts as he saw them. Maybe he was just trying to make excuses for himself, at this point he hadn’t a clue. Perhaps the alcohol had finally found a way to cloud his mind, but Steve doubted it. More likely he was just overwhelmed and overtired, but if he slept now... He didn't even want to think of what he would dream tonight.

“It’s what we all do, right? Our job, our duty” said Eliot, looking sideways at his friend. “But when you see somebody you were that close to looking back at you like they’re enemy?” Eliot shook his head one more time. “It ain’t easy.”

“Redemption isn’t easy either,” said Steve, pushing his near-empty beer bottle away. “You said so yourself, but it’s achievable.”

“Maybe. First you gotta want to be redeemed. Moreau never did. Who knows? Maybe Barnes will, if you can reach him.”

They looked at each other and Steve nodded his agreement. To reach Bucky didn’t mean to find him, it meant to break through whatever programming had been forced into his head, to get to the man he knew, the one buried deep beneath the Winter Soldier’s guise.

“It’s not his fault,” he said sadly.

“And that’s the real difference,” Eliot muttered, finishing his beer and getting down from the stool. “Only man I know strong enough to get him back is sitting right here,” he said, patting Steve on the shoulder. “And I don’t mean the great Captain America in all his stars and stripes. Your buddy needs you, Rogers. Just you.”

Before Steve could think of a reply or hardly even process what Eliot had said, he was gone, as if vanished by a magician. Maybe he learned that from Parker, or maybe Steve was just so caught up in his thoughts that he had lost the last two or three minutes altogether.

Hopefully what he hadn’t lost was the chance to get Bucky back. At least now he had a little more confidence in himself than he had before Eliot walked into the bar.

“Thank you,” he said to the empty stool beside him, before getting up and heading out.

He had work to do.


End file.
